


swimming in a champagne sea

by delsicle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alpha Harry, Alpha Louis, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Clubbing, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub Undertones, Fluff, Lingerie, M/M, Meet-Cute, Model Louis, Photographer Harry, Sex Toys, Size Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 04:48:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13710168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delsicle/pseuds/delsicle
Summary: Louis is a supermodel. Harry is a celebrity photographer known for capturing the brightest up and comers in their most candid moments. They meet at London’s most exclusive New Year’s Eve party.An alpha/alpha fic filled with confusion, banter, Ubers, and glitter





	swimming in a champagne sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MyBlueberryNights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyBlueberryNights/gifts).



> Hello everyone, and especially hello to MyBlueberryNights! I got so many great prompts for this pinch hit and they all would have been fun to do, but I decided to go with the alpha/alpha prompt because I’ve actually wanted to write a fic like this for a while. This definitely didn’t get fleshed out nearly as much as I wanted it to, due to school, writer’s block, and a flu epidemic that took me down for a week. I definitely want to post an extended version later on with more relationship building (and more smut) later on, but I hope you enjoy this bout of fluff for now.
> 
> As a disclaimer to anyone who may be bothered by this: this is an alpha/alpha fic. They are both alphas. Only Louis bottoms onscreen (again, because I ran out of time to write more) but it is heavily discussed that they are versatile. If you are a fan of traditional alpha/omega dynamics, this may not be the fic for you. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta for looking things over, and the mods of this exchange for being very, very patient with me. All other mistakes are mine, I hope you enjoy.

Harry had been to more industry parties than he could count at this point.

There was something about making a name for himself in the celebrity circles that made him highly in demand for private jobs, which he refused, and also highly in demand for parties, which he usually accepted. Of course, they never wanted him. The parties came with an unspoken “Bring camera and clock in your hours with your employer when it’s over.” He didn’t go to parties to have fun. He came to take pictures. It didn’t matter if people tripped over themselves to get in the range of his camera. It didn’t matter that getting in a Harry Styles picture could make your career if you were unknown if he didn’t have a camera with him.

In the last year, he had been invited to product launches, weddings, birthday parties, and random weekend get-togethers that were held at private estates and had enough booze to take out an army. He had taken his pictures, turned them into his editor, and worked off his hangover at home with three bottles of Gatorade and a David Fincher film. He was past having fun at the parties or trying to talk to people who were definitely not interested in actually getting to know him.

But when he got the invitation to The Party, he had to admit he was at least a little interested.

The Party, which was the only title the event was given, was the annual New Year’s Eve party thrown by a rotating group of brand owners and independently wealthy multi-billionaires, each year held at a different location in London. The list was always exclusively A-list celebrities and rich socialites, and the list always managed to make every gossip list and tabloid once it was made public. 

But Harry’s invitation wasn’t printed anywhere. It was sent to his apartment, along with a pile of bills and a couple flyers from a sandwich place across the street. It was in a black envelope with gold, cursive ink dashed across the front, and when he opened it, a pile of glitter poured out and sprayed all over his carpet, which he just stared at in defeat before walking into the kitchen to read the invitation fully. He emailed Margie, his most regular and best buyer for his candid pictures, and gave her a heads up he had been invited. She replied in seconds with an offer to buy any and all pictures he took and said they’d talk more in the new year.

So, Harry was invited to The Party, and in two weeks, he had on a suit he had purchased just for the occasion, his camera bag swung over his shoulder as his Uber dropped him off. Maybe it wasn’t classy to take an Uber to the biggest party of the year, hosted at the estate of an oil company heir. But he couldn’t exactly care, especially not when at least three servers rushed forward to offer him drinks and smiles when he walked in.

They were probably all struggling actors or musicians, starving at they worked behind the scenes and clicked their teeth at a piece of fruit that was just out of their reach. They were probably aware only a few people would be carrying around a camera bag, and Harry probably wasn’t doing himself any favors by toting around a bag that had his last name printed in large font on the side.

Still, he would take the champagne.

He stepped off to the side of the party for a moment, fiddling with his SD cards and his lenses to make sure his camera was set up the way he waited. He glanced up and noted a few people as they walked inside, some familiar, some not. An actress he had taken pictures of a year and a half ago, when she was still brunette and he himself was fresh out of school and trying to make a name for himself. A DJ who had once tried to bribe Harry for pictures of him eating hummus and staring into space. A child star who he had shared a cigarette once and who had an addictive laugh and had given him some of his favorite pictures of his career.

Finally, he double-checked his lens and then tucked back the pieces into his camera bag he didn’t need before dipping the crowd. It was nine-thirty, and he had plenty of time to wander away, sample the appetizers, and try to find something interesting.

As he walked around, he heard a few whispers that sounded vaguely like his name. He was used to it, but still, it never failed to amuse him. Most photographers only rose up in circles of their own peers, maybe in the modeling or blogging circuits. There were probably more photographers near for plenty of high-end magazines and blogs that would perfectly blend into the shadows, take their pictures, and quietly leave at midnight.

Harry missed that sometimes. But somehow, he had gained the reputation of the most keen-eyed candid photographer in London. One who could perfectly capture the humanity of people that were once considered untouchable. Someone who could take someone unknown and make them so fascinating and their career would be sent into orbit within the next week. Whether it was deserved or not, the reputation paid his bills rather nicely, and let him be more selective with his projects and the prices he sold his images for. And, it got him an invitation to The Party. It would be ridiculous to ask for more.

He kept walking, munching on shrimp and olive-oil drizzled cheese as he went. Everyone was split into groups, talking and laughing. But it was all too tame, too early. Some people tried to capture his attention by laughing sharply and setting their arms into some sort of half-pose as he wandered by, but he ignored it. He was fifteen minutes in, and a good moment would come.

There were more drinks, more guests, more laughing and people trying to capture his attention. At one point, a man Harry didn’t recognize tapped him on the arm and tried to talk to Harry like they were old friends, his breath smelling like red wine. Harry gently put his hand on the man’s front and pushed, sighing and laughing weakly as he walked away. It happened a few more times. About half a dozen omegas tried to give him their numbers, and he smiled politely and put them in the outer pocket of his bag each time. He’d throw them later, like he always did.

By ten-thirty, Harry was sitting on the stairs on the mansion with an empty camera, a glass of ice water, and aching feet because he had thought it would be a good idea to wear a new pair of boots with two and half inch heels tonight. The Party was officially boring. It was in a venue that had the capacity to make for a beautiful background, and the dress code had called for everyone to wear black, white, and silver. It was beautiful. It was all fucking beautiful. And the guest list was boring as all well.

Maybe this would go down as the first failed Party. The first one that even Harry Styles couldn’t bring himself to take pictures of.

He snorted weakly at the thought and took another sip of water. Like he had the power to make the most exclusive party in the city fall to pieces.

He got up from the stairs, calling an end to his own boredom-fueled pity party. He wandered to the back room of the party, and then decided to walk around a bit with his camera lifted up to eye, observing everything to his viewfinder. Maybe that would make things easier to find a good shot.

A good ten minutes passed of Harry just wandering around with his camera glued to his face, not caring if he was getting strange looks in the midst of everyone. If he walked away with a few good pictures, then his job would be done.

People passing him in blurs of black and white, and every time, he was tempted to take a picture, but he resisted with each passing person. It wasn’t quite right, not yet. And then he wandered past a couple more groups of people, and into the very back of the room, where a small group was gathered next to the windows.

Harry lowered his camera, blinking for a moment. He wanted to take a second to look ahead and observe. He didn’t normally do that. Normally he saw entire parties through the viewfinder of his camera, just so he wouldn’t miss anything. His finger was trained to push on the capture along with his blinks and exhales.

But he figured for once, missing a shot would be worth it.

The people by the window were vaguely familiar to him. He could tell by the group’s general bone structure and also just the way they stood, with some sort of enraging, casual glamour, that they were all models. He had probably met a few of them before. He had been around plenty of fashion sets, even now, when his candid work was far more well known than anything he ever shot on a posed set. Out of concept makeup and clothes, though, the group looked rather ordinary. Most of them were in black and silver, as per the dress code.

There was only one thing that stood out from the monochrome. A single flash of red, painted on the lips of a man standing by the tall windows. He was in a silver shirt, nearly sheer, and there was a loose black tie hanging from his shoulders, long forgotten. His raven black trousers were cuffed, delicately shaped ankles over a pair of trainers that probably used to cost more than Harry’s old student flat. The man was standing listening to his friends, and he was nodding, smiling along.

Then, the man next to him, dark-haired and dressed in a black turtleneck, grabbed the man by the waist and squeezed his sides, and the man’s face crumpled into a laugh, his crimson red lips parting over white, sharp teeth, his head tilting back and his hand finding its way to press under his throat and over his chest as he laughed.

Harry barely even felt his hands lift and snap the picture. He certainly didn’t care if people around him turned at the sound of the camera and then looked back towards the group by the windows to see what on Earth had finally captured Harry Styles’ attention.

His finger pressed on the capture a few more times, but he already knew that first moment was the shot he wanted. He would splash it on the front page of his website. It would be the new jewel of his portfolio.

He settled his camera back down and then strolled towards the group, trying to keep his feet steady as he came forward.

It was an hour and a half until midnight, and the party was set to go on long after that. He should be looking for other people to snap. But he had lost interest.

When he made it to the group of models, a few people took a moment to look at him, yet he still stood on the edges for entirely too long, just staring before he cleared his dry throat.

“Hello,” he said.

The man didn’t look at him at first, but one of the girls standing nearby in a silver gown smiled and poked the man in the side.

“Louis,” she said, “I think someone wants you.”

The man – Louis – turned, and lifted his eyebrows at Harry. His eyes were so big. And so blue, nearly teal next to that red lipstick. Harry had always loved red and blue together.

“Hello,” Louis smiled, and Harry extended a hand towards him before he could think through it.

“Hello. I’m Harry.”

“Oh. So it’s you,” Louis laughed, and waved a hand towards the rest of the ballroom, “I think everyone in here’s trying to get you to take a picture of them, love. I’ve overheard that you’ve already ruined more than a few people’s evenings by not snapping them.”

“But I’ve taken pictures tonight,” Harry said, and Louis smiled.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. He couldn’t find anything else to say.

He glanced to the rest of the group, and then stepped back. He felt his feet stumble a bit on the marble floor, the heels of his boots clicking awkwardly.

He was flustered. He was fucking flustered. Jesus.

“Well. I just wanted to stop by,” Harry said, “I’ll let you all carry on now.”

“We’re not doing much,” Louis sighed, and lifted his hand to brush it through his hair. He glanced over to the man next to him, “Zayn, love, what are we doing later?”

“Well,” the man next to him smiled lazily, “We got go out in maybe half an hour.”

“Oh, yes, Midnight,” Louis sighed, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. Harry’s fingers twitched over his camera, desperately to immortalize the movement. Louis cut a glance to Harry and smiled, “I’m afraid Harry here won’t be able to accompany us then.”

“Why not? What are you doing?” Harry blurted out, and then resisted the urge to bite his tongue, like it would undo what he just said.

He had been to industry parties. He had met industry people, other models, more times than he could count at this point. And he had never fumbled this badly.

But Louis still looked over at him with an easy smile, and then took a step forward, so he was far closer to Harry. Red lips and bright eyes, exposed skin through silver mesh.

When Harry inhaled, he smelled a crisp, masculine perfume coming off Louis’s skin, something expensive. And under that was a distinctive alpha smell.

Somehow, it didn’t bother him as much as it maybe should have.

“We’re going to go get high in the garden when the clock strikes midnight,” Louis said, “Do you think that would be interesting?”

Harry blinked, drawing up images of nighttime shadows in his dark lenses, sin-colored smoke pouring from those red lips, blue eyes gone dark and lazy.

He had never been drawn to a person – or a scent – like that, but it didn’t matter. It was New Year’s, he was in a colorless room, and a supermodel in red lipstick had just offered to let Harry watch while he got high at midnight.

It was the worst possible time for logic.

“Yes,” he agreed, and Louis lifted his brows.

“You sure? I think they’re having some big balloon drop in the foyer.”

“Confetti, I think,” one of the other models standing nearby offered.

“I thought I heard glitter. Just buckets of silver glitter,” Zayn sighed, “I pity their housekeepers.”

“Well, they’re dropping something,” Louis sighed, waving his hand behind him at his friends, “That would be a better picture, don’t you think?”

No, Harry thought. Because that’s what they wanted, a nice, staged picture. But dropping a million shiny things from the interior balconies of the mansion was going to be nothing next to just one more candid smile from the alpha standing in front of Harry.

Alpha.

Jesus, he was too sober for this.

“I’ll join you outside,” Harry said, “If one of you can come find me before you go.”

“Ah. Still have to work,” Louis smiled, “I understand.”

He drew a finger over his lip, and Harry watched as the smallest, barely noticeable kiss of red stained the side of his finger as he drew it away and spoke again.

“But I’ll personally come and find you.”

-

“Gorgeous as usual, darling,” Margie said from behind the desk sighed as she flipped through the finals Harry had turned in. He nodded and smiled, drumming his fingers on the arms of the chair. He had to admit, his pictures from The Party had turned out okay. Alongside the pictures Louis and his model had provided, Harry had gotten plenty more shots. Professional dancers, drunk on too much champagne, twirling in place with their shoes kicked off. An actress half-screaming, half-laughing after spilling a full glass of red wine all over her white gown. The aftermath of stilettos and dress shoes walking over the glitter-covered marble floor.

“You know why I hire you?” Margie said as she spent flipping through the binder of proofs, “Because every other publication in London is running pictures that had glitter stuck to the fuckin lens, and you get some clear pictures, that’s why.”

“The midnight glitter drop didn’t seem particularly interesting to me,” he shrugged.

“I can see that,” she said, and flipped the binder around smoothly, showing it to Harry. It made him smile a bit. She had it open on a picture of Louis, like most of his pictures from the night, although he had tried to diversify his portfolio from the night a bit. He was blowing straight up into the air, his cherry red lips puckered and his eyes gazing skyward.

“This is Louis Tomlinson, isn’t it?” she asked, “From the Vetements campaign?”

“And Givenchy and Valentino. Just signed with Kenzo and he was the first male Angel on the Victoria Secret’s roster as of last spring,” Harry said. Margie cut him a glance and he shrugged.

“I googled him afterwards. You know how I work.”

“Yes, and I applaud you for it,” she sighed and flipped the binder back towards her, “We’ll buy about ten from you for your usual rate, and you’ll get your cut for the press sales and the website clicks. You can put them on your website as soon as our own web team uploads them.”

“Perfect. I’ll shoot you an email with the digital copies?”

“That works. Now go home, get some rest. It’s fucking New Year’s Day and you’re twenty-four, you don’t deserve to be awake before three in the afternoon.”

Harry snorted and sighed.

“Well, thank you.”

He picked up his bag from the floor and held out his hand until Margie gave him back his binder of proofs. Once he had it back, he wrestled to put it back in his bag, and then walked out in to _High Life Magazine’s_ otherwise empty main office. There were a few strung-out interns walking around, getting everything ready to run the New Year’s issue for which he had just provided the final key. He waved hello to them, and they exchanged weak nods in turn as Harry walked towards the elevator.

It was New Year’s Day, for once Harry wasn’t too hungover, he had no resolutions and no plans. As he descended down to the lobby, already weighing whether or not he wanted a coffee, he considered it an alright day.

The lobby was equally empty, and he started wandering towards the door, aimlessly untangling his headphones as he went, then he felt a tap on his shoulder. His head jerked up, and he turned, half expecting the security guard to tell him he needed some bullshit bag search before he left the building. Instead, he was faced with a slight man in a black sweatshirt, his eyes painfully familiar as they looked up at Harry.

“Well, hello,” Louis sighed, the gum between his teeth snapping as he smiled.

“Oh, hi,” Harry said.

“What brings you here?” Louis said, “It’s New Year’s Day.”

“Could ask you the same thing,” Harry said, and Louis rolled his eyes.

“Gym’s on the bottom floor of the building. Have to keep my figure, don’t I.”

“Aren’t you hung over?”

“Only a bit,” Louis said, “Now tell me what you’re here for.”

“ _High Life_ is on the eighth floor. The editor wanted my prints from last night.”

“Of course,” Louis said, “You’ll be running the stories of your escapades today?”

“This afternoon, print’s out on Friday.”

“Jesus,” Louis sighed, “My agent is going to kill me for lighting up in front of you.”

Harry opened his mouth, but Louis waved him off, “It’ll be fine. She’ll just be glad I’m still not actually smoking.”

Louis adjusted the workout bag on his shoulder, and then nodded to the door.

“Are you going home now?”

“I was going to get a coffee, actually, and then to the park, maybe do some freelance work.”

He patted his camera bag, and Louis smiled.

“Mind if I come with you?” he asked, “I deserve to be asleep right now, but I have a meeting later today, I could use a wake up.”

“On New Year’s?”

Louis rolled his eyes, “I have a runway in Milan in a week and my agency wants to kill me.”

Harry licked his lips and adjusted his bag again. If he was being honest, he wasn’t sure if he believed Louis had a real meeting that day, or if he just wanted an excuse to walk with Harry. Because if he wanted an excuse to walk with Harry…

Well, Harry had dated people. He knew what flirting looked like. And he wasn’t going to lie that even now, with Louis got of his bright red lipstick and his silver party clothes, he was still highly interested in flirting back.

“Walk with me,” Harry said, not even adding a “please” to it.

Louis just smiled and started walking again, forcing Harry to catch up with him.

-

The barista at the Starbucks one block over didn’t look thrilled to be working, but she still offered a weak smile when Harry approached the counter, tapping his credit card on the counter as he pretended to examine the menu

“Can I get a venti iced Americano, double espresso,” he said, as watched as the barista wrote it on a cup. He turned to Louis, who was standing next to him, his hands in his pockets. Harry risked reaching out and tapped Louis’s shoulder, making him look over.

“It’s on me, if you want to order now,” Harry said. Louis lifted a brow but didn’t protest.

“Alright then,” Louis turned to the cashier, “Venti black coffee, no room.”

She picked up another cup and then tapped in Harry’s total, and after Harry had surrendered his card, they went over to the counter to wait. It only took another minute for one of the exhausted baristas to bring them their drinks, and Louis sighed as he picked up his black coffee.

“The mid-season diet is killing me,” he said, “I can’t wait until my next campaign is up. I’m going to spend two weeks drinking margaritas and eating carbs in the Maldives for my trouble.”

He nodded towards a table by the window.

“Should we sit?”

“Don’t you have a meeting to go to?”

“Maybe I lied.”

Harry tried to look surprised, but he could only manage to smile.

“Why would you lie?”

“Because I wanted to get coffee with you, and if I had told you my only plan for today was to go home and sleep, then that would make my sudden interest in caffeine a bit nonsensical, don’t you think?”

Right. Flirting. Harry still knew what flirting looked like, and it made him smile more.

“You wanted coffee with me that that badly, huh?”

“Sit down,” Louis said, and Harry just did it.

Louis tucked his knee up against his chest when he sat down, and just observed Harry over the top of his cup as he took his first sip.

“Honestly, I’m glad I ran into you so soon.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked. He prodded at the lid of his drink with his thumb, but he had honestly lost interest in drinking it.

“Yeah. I have some questions,” Louis said.

“Questions.”

“Mm hm. I’ve heard things about you, Styles,” Louis said, “How you live in a cave all on your own. Never listen to any music made before 1975, never go online. Keep your mind pure of new talent so you can take pictures of worthwhile subjects.”

Harry snorted as he finally picked up his cup. He could only imagine what website Louis had picked that off of. There were plenty that said something along the same lines when Harry had first made it be, making up stories as they searched for the secret behind the appeal of his pictures.

“Partially,” he finally allowed, and Louis once more lifted his brows.

“Partially?”

“I don’t ignore the outside world. I can know who someone is and still tell when they’re giving me a genuine moment,” Harry shrugged, “I don’t need to live in isolation.”

“So you’re telling me you know what the Internet is.”

Harry laughed.

“Yes. And I love a bit of pop music. And I fall asleep to E News.”

“Oh, my,” Louis breathed out, grinning at he propped his chin in his hand, “Would this ruin your career if it got out?”

“I doubt most people believe the old rumors about me wholeheartedly, so I guess it doesn’t matter.”

Louis smiled, his sharp, white teeth still the same from last night.

“So, you’re…normal.”

“I guess,” Harry said, “Does that make this coffee date a little more boring than you wanted?”

Date. He had just referred to this as a date, and he honestly wasn’t sure if it was an accident or not. But Louis looked fairly calm, his eyebrows remaining in the same position as before.

“Not exactly,” Louis said, “I think I like the normal Harry Styles a little better.”

Louis took another sip of his coffee, and then gestured to Harry’s bag.

“Is it against some sort of photography law if I ask to see some of the pictures from last night now?”

“Maybe,” Harry said, already unzipping his bag, “But for you I’ll make an exception.”

Louis insisted on flipping through nearly every page in the binder, laughing at some pictures, frowning at others, occasionally commenting on the people inside. “I had a photoshoot with her once. She got sent home because a bee got in the studio and she was highly allergic” he said about one woman in a short silver dress. “I went on a date with him. He’s the human version of an oyster cracker” he said about an actor who had broken the dress code to sport a gold shirt and looked very uncomfortable about it. Louis tapped on his favorite pictures, and Harry made a mental note to look at them again later.

Luckily, Louis said nothing about the fact he seemed to take up most of the binder.

An hour had passed and their coffees were empty by the time Louis was done with the portfolio, and then he shut it and slid it back across the table.

“Your work’s alright,” Louis said, and Harry laughed weakly.

“Just alright?”

Louis shrugged, and didn’t even bother to answer when he spoke again.

“I’d like to get lunch sometime,” Louis said, “Can I have your number?”

“Oh,” Harry said, “Yeah, of course.”

But he didn’t make a move to get a pen, or grab his phone, or do anything useful in order to give Louis his number. The other man just looked at him through his frozenness, his eyes shining with amusement.  

“I haven’t been on a date in a while,” Harry eventually said. Again, he was saying date. But this time, he was sure about using it. He wanted to see if Louis was actually on the same page.

“Well, was this one okay?” Louis answered, and Harry felt his shoulder relax as he said it.

“It was great,” Harry said, “It was really great.”

“Then maybe I could talk you into to a second one?”

Harry just blinked at him, and then ran a finger along the cardboard top of his coffee cup.

“I…I should ask this before I say yes,” he said, “Do – do you know I’m an alpha?”

Louis narrowed his eyes, his mouth still smiling.

“I have a nose, so, yes.”

“And…have you ever dated another alpha before?”

Louis tilted his head and picked up his own coffee cup.  

“No,” he said, “But I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t something I was open to.”

He sipped his coffee and then settled it down and lifted his eyebrow.

“You?”

“I haven’t either,” Harry said, “But I’m still open.”

“Good. So,” Louis said, tapping the top of his coffee cup, “Second date?”

“If I can have your number.”

Louis just laughed.

“You have a pen?”

Harry dug around in his bag for five minutes until he found an old Sharpie, and then Louis snatched Harry’s cup and wrote his own number on the top of the lid.

-

The next time Harry met up with Louis, it was a rainy Friday, and Louis had gotten tickets to a movie that wasn’t going to released in regular theaters for almost six months.

“And how did you manage that?” Harry had asked on the phone earlier that week, while he stood in a food truck line waiting for a lamb gyro.

“I blew the producer’s son at a party once, so now he gives me free things sometimes,” Louis had replied.

Harry jumped out of his Uber and jogged through the rainy to the protective awning of a independent movie theater in the upper part of the city, and Louis just watched him from under the awning, an umbrella in his hands and a bemused smile on his face. His hair looked fucking perfect.

“Need a towel?” he asked as Harry pushed his wet hair out his face.

“Fuck off,” Harry mumbled, before he realized that was a shitty thing to say on a second date. He opened his mouth to apologize, but Louis was already laughing.

“I’m glad you wanted to do this,” Louis said as he reached over and opened the theater door for Harry, “I know I promised you lunch.”

“It’s fine, really,” Harry said, “What is this movie about again?”

“Something with lesbians,” Louis said, “Which happens to be my favorite film genre.”

He held out his hand, curling his fingers inward a bit.

“Here,” he said, “Let me take your jacket.”

“Oh,” Harry said as he went to tug his wet coat off and hand it to Louis, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Louis smiled, and slung the coat over his own arm.

Then, he reached out, and settled a hand to Harry’s hip, smoothing it back until he was holding weakly onto his back.

Harry didn’t look over at Louis at first, just took in the feeling of Louis’s short fingers pressed into his back.

“I like your shirt,” Louis smiled, “I think one of my friends wore that on the Givenchy Fall runway last year.”

Harry laughed weakly, shaking his head, which made more of his wet hair flop over his forehead and into his eyes.

“Thanks,” he managed. He kept walking forward, Louis’s hand still on his hip, and then he shifted a bit, so he was closer to Louis, and he felt the other man’s hand practically float over his back and secure a tighter hold on his back. Louis glanced at him and offer a small smile, and then pointed forward, Harry’s wet coat flopping over his arm as he pointed.

“We’ll just give our tickets down that hallways. We’ll have to sit through some boring speech from one of the producers, probably, but then everything will start.”

“Alright,” Harry said, and turned fully to give Louis a smile. He didn’t move away from Louis’s touch, even though Louis was fully holding him by his waist now, and they were in a public place, and Harry was realizing all at once what he was doing. He was going on a date with someone he liked, which he had done more than half a dozen times in his adult life. But he was also going on a date with an alpha, and he was being held, an action he had done hundreds of times to his handful of omega boyfriends over the years but had never been on the receiving end of.

When they got to the end of the hallway, Louis gave two tickets to an attendant, who also offered to take Harry’s sopping wet coat into the coat room, before they went into the theater. It was mostly filled with benefactors for the film and film critics, but Louis still managed to stroll down the main aisle and sit down a pair of reserved seats right near the front of the screen.

“How did you manage to get these?” Harry asked, and Louis just shrugged.

“I told you last week. Blowjobs go a long way,” Louis said, “Now, sit.”

Harry wandered the aisle and sat down in one seat, and Louis joined him on his left a second later.

“Um,” Louis murmured, making Harry glance over at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t take you on a date where we could actually talk. That probably wasn’t the best move.”

“No,” Harry laughed, “It’s perfect, I promise.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “My, um, my ex hated going to movies. I always had to go with my friend Alexa or go by myself.”

“God,” Louis groaned, “What kind of person hates going to movies?”

“He didn’t like the crowds.”

“It’s a movie. You’re all sitting in the dark, not speaking. Crowds don’t even matter.”

“I used to tell him that,” Harry said, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to be that person that talks about their ex on a date. A good date.”

“It’s fine,” Louis said, “It’s really fine.”

He tapped his fingers on his knee, and then leaned in.

“How long were you two together?”

“Only a year,” Harry shrugged, “We broke up, um, a year and a half ago, I think?”

“Shit,” Louis exhaled, “That long, no boyfriend?”

“Some dates,” Harry shrugged, “Nothing more long-term than that.”

He sighed, tipping his head back.

“This is going to make me sound like a tosser, but after all the photography stuff took off…I’d get phone numbers at every party, and it was just people who wanted to get close to me and get some pictures off of me. Like sleeping with me was going to be all I needed to shoot their picture and make their career.”

Louis was quiet, and then rubbed his arm.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I guess I’m a tosser too because I had the same sort of thing happen to me more times than I could count. It’s shit, innit.”

“It’s not my favorite thing.”

“So how do you know I’m not using you for your magic camera skills?” Louis grinned, nudging Harry’s arm once more. It was enough to make me look over, and take pause at how bright Louis’s eyes looked even in the dark theater lighting.

“I just have a good feeling about you,” Harry heard himself say. He had been staring Louis for so long he wasn’t even sure he was still inside his body.

Louis still smiled about him, but his face seemed to shift, making his entire face look softer.

The lights blinked and went dark above them, and Louis sighed.

“Well, time for us to stop talking for a little while.”

“I can take you to get ice cream after this,” Harry said, “Oh, shit, um, are you allowed to eat ice cream?”

“I won’t tell my trainer,” Louis laughed, and then turned forward to let at the screen ahead of them. An older man was walking across the narrow stage in front of the screen, presumably the producer Louis was talking about, prepared to make a speech.

Harry glanced over at Louis once, and then lifted his arm and settled it over the back of Louis’s chair, nearly brushing his back.

“That’s not subtle, you know,” Louis whispered, and Harry bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“Neither was you holding my back when we walked in.”

Louis just cut him a glance, and sighed.

“I’ll give you that,” he whispered, and then went quiet as the producer started to speak onstage.

An hour into the movie, Louis settled his head on Harry’s shoulder, and Harry nearly didn’t exhale until the movie was over.

-

Harry saw Louis nearly every weekend, mostly out to lunch or dinner or a coffee between their respective meetings for the day. And between then, it was a lot of texting. Louis sent him pictures from whatever campaign shoot he was working on, and Harry would send some whatever random shots he could scare up a picture of what he was doing that day. Most of his work was done at celebrity and events and parties, and sometimes on film or theatre sets, or in his home office, editing pictures and doing research and answering emails. To his credit, Louis seemed to find some of what he did interesting, and would reward him with two-minute-long voice memos about his day.

They were definitely dating, or at least _seeing_ each other. Harry didn’t want to push for more definitions or more of Louis’s time, especially not after only a month and a half.

In the midst of February, Louis had to fly to New York for a small fashion show, leaving Harry with his first free weekend. Which didn’t stay free for long, because about two minutes after Louis’s text came in with his fashion show news, Harry got a text from his best friend, Alexa, scolding him for not seeing her in so long.

So on his only free Saturday, he was wearing two layers and jogging in Hyde Park with Alexa by his side.

“I can’t believe you haven’t been answering my texts.”

“You’ve sent me no texts,” Harry managed as they went around a bend.

“Well, then you should’ve sent me a text,” Alexa said, “Or asked to see me.”

“You were in LA all of January,” Harry said, “Maybe I wanted to see you but couldn’t.”

“It’s been February for a week and a half now,” Alexa said, “It stands that you’re a bad friend.”

Harry held up his hands in surrender and sighed.

“Alright. You win.”

“Good. Pause,” Alexa said, transitioning into a light jog and then stopping completely. Harry stopped as well, setting his hands on his knees as he breathed in.

“Are you this out of shape?” Alexa asked above him

“Leave me alone,” Harry groaned, and then lifted his head and held out his hand. She silently handed him her water bottle and nodded her thanks.

When he handed it back, he worked his way into a stretch, and then straightened back up, glancing over at his friend before speaking again, this time with no preamble.

“So I’m seeing somebody now,” Harry said, and Alexa lifted her head and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, yeah?” she said as she locked her arm between her folded elbow, stretching it out, “Is that what you were doing when you weren’t talking to me?”

“Maybe.”

“I retract the bad friend statement. You’re a horrendous friend,” Alexa sighed. She dropped her arm out of her stretch and switched arms, “Now tell me about him.”  

“Um,” Harry said, “You might know him, actually.”

“Okay,” she said, “Go on.”

“It’s kind of…Louis Tomlinson.”

Alex promptly dropped her arm and stared at him.

“Harry.”

“Yes?”

“Louis Tomlinson is an alpha.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Shit,” she exhaled, “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make it weird. I just – I never knew you were into that kind of thing.”

“It’s not a sexual thing,” Harry said, even though his face burned a bit, “I mean, not solely. It can’t be. We haven’t done anything yet.”

“You haven’t fucked him yet?” she asked, “Or he hasn’t fucked you – listen, I don’t know how this is supposed to work.”

“You’re a lesbian, you’re the last person who should be allowed to ask how anyone has sex.”

“Point taken.”

“Anyways, it’s not a sexual experiment or whatever the fuck. I just like him. He’s cute.”

“Cute. Yeah, he’s number three on the list of most attractive men in Europe, he’s fucking cute.”

“Shut up. And he’s funny. And nice. I don’t know, I just like him.”

“Can he cook?”

“God no.”

“Good, you have that thing where you like to mother people. It will help that he won’t be able to eat without you.”

“I do not mother people.”

“I’m sorry. You over-alpha people. Does that threaten your masculinity less?”

“My masculinity hasn’t been threatened in roughly fifteen years, darling,” he said, “Can we just finish this lap? I want to get home by one so I have time to upload my last few shots and then change.”

“Oh, are you meeting your cute alpha boyfriend tonight?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Harry sighed, “We’re having fun. And he’s in New York right now. I just have a work thing.”

“Okay, not your boyfriend. Whatever you say,” she rolled her eyes, “And yeah, let’s go.”

She slapped his shoulder and then took off ahead of him, forcing Harry to sigh and then fall into step behind her.

-

The next week had Valentine’s Day smack in the middle of it, and Harry honestly wasn’t sure if he and Louis should anyway since they had been dating for such a short amount of time. But Louis texted me asking if he wanted to go out on the fourteenth, and if he wanted to do something different.

Something different was apparently a club across town, which maybe wasn’t the most traditional Valentine’s Day venue, but Harry would take it.

He got there before Louis and saved them a seat at the bar, just so he could order a drink and relax a little. He had just finished a full work day of both shooting and editing, and he hadn’t seen Louis in so long, so damn it if he wasn’t a little nervous.   

He nursed his house drink and sighed as he watched everyone else around him, dancing and chatting. He wondered if they would be the only people here who were actually dating someone.

Probably. Who else would go on a date in a club on Valentine’s Day other than someone who was really, really far gone.

Harry could sense Louis the second he walked in about ten minutes later. It was less of his scent, because even though the spicy, nearly floral smell of it became clearer as he approached, it was easy to get lost in the all pheromones around the club. Harry wasn’t even watching the door, waiting, because even though he wanted to, that would just be pathetic. But he could nearly feel the air shift while he was sitting at the bar nursing his cocktail, and then, within about five seconds, Louis was appearing at his side.

“Hey,” he grinned at Harry, “Glad I could find you, this place is packed.”

“Yeah,” Harry swallowed his throat dry as Louis opened his arms, offering a hug to Harry that he took. Louis was a hugger. Or just touchy-feeling in general. Harry had noticed that a lot, “I figured I’d stay in one place so I’d be easy to find.”

“Good call,” Louis said, and then lifted himself onto the stool and waved over a bartender. Harry took a minute to look over Louis’s black jeans with rips over the thighs and knees, his white vest, his red-flannel lined leather jacket and designer trainers. He wasn’t wearing any make up tonight, but there looked like a couple flecks of glitter around his eyes. Maybe he had had a shoot earlier than day.

“God, I’m glad you could do this,” Louis sighed as the bartender set something electric pink in front of him, “I have a flexible day tomorrow, so it’s not really an issue for me but I’m just…glad you wanted to do this tonight.”

“This works for me, honestly,” Harry said, “I’m just editing tomorrow at home, I can get up whenever.”

“Well, I’m glad,” Louis smiled and then picked up his electric drink, downing nearly half of it in one go. He sighed and then reached out to Harry, grabbing his hand, “Come on.”

“What?” Harry glanced down at their joined hands and then back at Louis, who just rolled his eyes.

“We’re at a club. We’re going to dance.”

“You don’t want to talk?”

“It’s too bloody loud to talk.” Louis said. He slid completely off his stool, his feet hitting the sticky floor, “Come on. Two songs.”

“I – “ Harry laughed, “I’m not drunk enough to dance.”

Louis just blinked at him, and then picked up his drink from the bar and handed it to him.

“Okay. Down it.”

“You’re kidding.”

“No, I’m not,” Louis said, “Come on, this has an entire bottle of vodka in one glass. You’ll be pissed half way through Post Malone’s next verse, I promise.”

Harry just looked at the pink connotation in front of him, and into Louis’s glinting, dangerous eyes, and he reached out, taking the cool glass from Louis’s fingers. He kept his gaze even with Louis’s as he lifted the glass to his lips, and then tipped it back, swallowed firmly as he gulped it down. He gasped when he was done.

“That tastes like toe nail polish remover,” he said, “And…kiwis.”

“It’s the Valentine’s Day special, it’s for sober, lonely people looking to fix both of those things,” Louis said, then plucked the glass from Harry’s fingers and grabbed his wrist, “Now come on.”

Harry just let Louis tug on him, sighing “fine” under his breath. Louis grinned and then pulled him away from the safety of the bar and the surrounding tables, and onto one of the club’s two dance floors.

Harry had probably last been in a club for a photography assignment, and the last time he had actually gotten drunk and danced at a dance was probably with Alexa. She always told him he had gotten boring too soon, that going to so many parties for work had forced him to forget how to have fun. She was right, but, for Louis he was willing to make an exception.

He started by standing mostly still, moving his shoulders a little as he watched Louis move close to him, his hips swiveling, his arms up, his hands running down his own throat and front.

“I hate this song,” he shouted to Harry at some point, but he moved like he danced to it a thousand times before.

Harry only started moving for real when Louis came up to him, turning around and pressing his back to Harry’s front. His hands from Harry’s hips, and he just moved in front of him until Harry lamely lifted a hand and pressed it to Louis’s hip as he moved, closing his eyes so neon lights could pop behind his closed eyelids as Louis pressed himself close.

He opened his eyes once more when he felt Louis move again, and this time, the man was facing Harry, still pressed so, so close.

Louis dragged his hand over his neck, flicking his gaze up. When he smiled, his teeth were white enough to nearly glow under the neon lights.

“Hi,” he said. Or at least, that’s what Harry guessed he was saying. He had to read his lips.

“Hi,” he mouthed back. Louis smiled wider, and then pulled on Harry’s neck, brushing his thumb over the pulse point in his neck as he pulled him closer.

“You having fun?” Louis asked, and this time, he was close enough that Harry could actually hear him. Louis dropped a hand to his hip, smoothing over the hipbone, and Harry exhaled slowly.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. His mouth felt sticky from the drink, and he could still taste the cheap liquor and fake sugar in his mouth, making it hard for his tongue to move. Louis smiled, softly and all with his lips, his teeth not flashing this time. He flicked his eyes up, the blue flashing even in the dark. He smoothed his hand all the way up Harry’s neck, and then brought his thumb across his chin and over his lips, toying with his bottom lip.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, and Harry blinked at him.

“Now?”

“Yeah.”

Harry gulped slowly. The features of Louis’s face were still flashing in strips of neon and shadow, there was a song playing he didn’t even like and it was so loud, and people kept moving and people around him, bumping into Harry’s hips and back. It was the least ideal place to have a first kiss.

But still, Harry nodded, and then in another moment, he was leaning forward, gripping his hands around Louis’s hips. Louis lifted his body up, and when they first connected, their lips just brushed each other, and then Louis pushed forward, gripping Harry’s cheek with one hand and his waist with the other. Their lips again, more firmly this time, and Harry exhaled shakily into Louis’s mouth in between kisses. Louis’s tongue slip into the crease of Harry’s lips, and he let his happen, just squeezing harder on the other man’s hips. The other alpha’s mouth was soft and firm and tasted like the worst drink Harry had had in his life, but he kept going in for more, chasing Louis’s lips with his own.

Louis pulled away first, and tiltd his head back, breathing out slowly. Harry leaned forward, slipping his hands up and under Louis’s jacket and t-shirt, his lips coming in contact with the slope of Louis’s neck, shiny with sweat and smelling of addictive pheromones.

Harry felt a hand on his chest, pushing him back a little, and Louis lifted his head back up, smiling lazily at him.

“Good,” he mouthed. He stroked over Harry’s cheek as his lips moved.

“Good?” Harry said. He said it out loud, and Louis laughed, the song only partially lost in the music.

“Keep dancing,” Louis said back. He moved closer, wrapping his arms around Harry’s neck and bringing their bodies close. Harry just nodded, keeping his hands tightly around Louis’s middle and stroking over the bare skin on his sides.

They stayed there, in a tangle of limbs in the middle of everywhere else, hands roaming very little. Occasionally Louis would lift his head and mouth against Harry’s shoulder, or Harry would nose into Louis’s neck, catching a bit of his scent. It wasn’t until Louis pushed on his chest again they broke apart.

“Dancing is fucking boring,” Louis sighed, and Harry laughed weakly.

“Alright,” he conceded. He grabbed Louis’s hand and pulled him away, off the dance floor. As soon as they were out, Louis broke his hand away from Harry’s and lifted his shirt, rubbing the fabric of his shirt over his face, giving Harry a brief flash of his tight stomach before it disappeared once more under his shirt.

“Why did I think this would be fun? I hate this,” Louis said, glancing at Harry, “Not you. You’re fun. I mean the club.”

“Well, thanks,” Harry said, and Louis just gave him another glance and a fleeting smile he looked at his phone screen and sighed.

“You want to go to mine for a nightcap?” Louis asked, “Zayn’s sister works for some board game manufacturing place, he gave me a bunch of discontinued games that aren’t too bad.”

“Sure,” Harry shrugged, leaning against the bar behind him, “Why not?”

“Perfect, let me just get an Uber.”

He tapped his phone, and Harry just watched the movement of his fingers before he snapped his gaze away and turned away, trying to focus on the signs above the bar.

He failed quickly and just looked at Louis as he tapped at his phone, and didn’t even try to look away when Louis finally lifted his head and smiled as he met Harry’s eyes again.

-

Louis lived in a neighborhood Harry could only now dream of affording. It was the newly built high-class sections of the city, not quite as appealing to people with old money or middle-aged CEOs as it was to people exactly in Louis’s class, twenty and thirty-somethings that had struck luck and cash early. His building was a tall apartment complex, and his unit was on one of the higher floors. The whole place was minimalist to a fault, with giant windows instead of walls in half the space, light pine hardwood and white carpeting with furniture to match. The whole place nearly sparkled.

Not that Harry had had much time to sit and stare at the interior, because as soon as he had walked in, Louis had handed him a beer and they had broken into a party game.

“I can’t believe you’re letting the alcoholic carpenter into our bomb shelter,” Louis said. He was sitting on the floor, slouching against the couch behind him, as he stared at the cards in front of him.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because he’ll be having terrible alcohol withdrawal and we have no use for a carpenter.”

“What if we need something fixed?”

Louis huffed and tapped a pair of cards with his toe while he kept his arms crossed.

“That’s why we have the mechanic with superhuman strength. That’s far more helpful.”

“Well, two people can be even better to fix things.”

“But the alcohol withdrawal, Harry,” Louis sighed and leaned his head against the couch behind him and closed his eyes, “Think about that.”

“I think everyone deserves a second chance.”

“Even if they’re screaming and sweating and threatening to kill us all if they don’t get a drink we can’t provide?”

“Yes.”

Louis cracked open one eye, giving Harry a long glance, and then he sighed, picking up the cards reading “Carpenter” and “Alcohol Addiction” and added them to the “keep” pile.

“Well, congratulations,” Louis said, “You make a good point, so we’ll let him in.”

“Good,” Harry smiled.

Louis just rolled his eyes and shook his head, finally pushing himself away from the couch.

“I don’t know why I thought you’d be fun to play Nuclear Winter with,” Louis said, “You are the worst possible person to be in a bomb shelter with, I swear. You’re too nice.”

“I like being nice.”

“So do I. I’m just saying, You won’t be invited to mine when the world ends.”

“Hm,” Harry hummed. He grabbed his too-tight beer and took another sip. This was his second. He might be a little tipsy now. Maybe drunk, “So, in this universe, are we dealing with our current living situations to take shelter in?”

“No,” Louis said, and patted the cardboard game box, “We’ve been giving a bomb shelter, it says so on the box.”

“Oh, that’s good for you,” Harry said, “Because I was about to say that if you had the option of holing up here for the apocalypse or coming to my bomb shelter, you couldn’t exactly be picky. This place is half windows.”

“Don’t you drag my windows,” Louis sighed, “And if we’re dealing with a scenario where I live in my apartment, wouldn’t you live in yours? Do you have a bomb shelter?”

“I live in Central London, of course I don’t have a fucking bomb shelter.”

“So this entire discussion is pointless.”

“Yes, I just wanted to make you were aware you had an apartment that was eighty percent windows.”

Louis burst out in a cackle and wrapped his arms around his middle, dropping down to lay on his side on the floor. Harry started laughing, too, the sound of it coming from Louis’s mouth infectious.

Louis rolled over, so he was laying next to where Harry was sitting cross-legged on the carpet, and he gazed up at him with sleepy, liquor-dark eyes.

 “Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered.

“Yeah,” Harry whispered back.

“I fucking hate this place,” Louis said, his voice once more dissolving into laughter, “It’s so white, it’s like a Swedish hospital.”

Harry snorted.

“Then why do you live here?”

“Christ, I don’t know. It seemed trendy at the time,” Louis said, “I’m looking for something else now. Honestly, I want a townhouse close to town. Somewhere with kids and retirees and their dogs walking around.”

“Mm,” Harry hummed, “That sounds nice.”

“Yeah,” Louis breathed out.

They were quiet for a moment, and then Louis rolled over again, onto his side, and poked Harry’s hip.

“Hey,” he said, “Lay down.”

“Alright,” Harry said, his voice still coming out with a little laugh because he was still a little drunk. He laid down, his body a bit stiff until Louis rubbed his hip, and then his body relaxed completely. His head felt like it was made of clouds, both from the alcohol and Louis’s scent. Louis lifted himself up onto his elbows, and soon his face was hovering above Harry’s, so close.

“Hey,” Louis whispered, “I’ve been thinking.”

“Yeah?” Harry managed. He didn’t mean to keep whispering, but there wasn’t enough strength in his voice to say anything else.

“I like you,” Louis said, “I like you a lot.”

Harry blinked up at him, and then smiled, “I like you, too.”

“And I want to keep seeing you.”

Harry swallowed, still looking up.

“Okay.”

“And, um,” Louis swallowed, “I think we should sleep together.”

Harry’s chest felt tight, but he kept exhaling, his chest still moving.

“Yeah?” he managed.

“Yeah,” Louis echoed, “Like, I don’t know if you’re into the idea of sleeping with alphas, or if you want to sleep with _anyone_. I mean, I know we haven’t done anything yet, so I don’t – “

“No, no, I – “ Harry said, “I like sex. I’d like to have sex with you.”

Louis just blinked, and then grinned again and leaned down, his lips once again ghosting Harry’s.

“Okay.”

They just looked at each other, and then Louis cleared his throat.  

“So, like, I probably should have thought about how we’ll do that.”

“I mean, it can’t be that much different,” Harry said.

“Right,” Louis said, “I mean, I’ve had sex.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“It’s just…we’ll do research.”

“Uh-huh.”

There was a pause, and then Harry opened his mouth again.

“I can top,” Harry said, at the exact same second Louis said the same thing. They stared at each, and then Louis dissolved into laughter.

“God, we’re both predictable, aren’t we?” Louis sighed.

“Yeah,” Harry said, “I, like, I’m okay with the idea of bottoming, I guess. I’ve just never done it. And I haven’t been with anyone who wanted me to do it.”

“Me too,” Louis said, “I can try, though. I feel like I should try it at some point, you know?”

“Not that you’re just here for me to experiment with. Like, I want to do – a lot with you.”

“And – you like, um, rimming?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Giving or receiving?”

“Both,” Louis breathed out, “Blow jobs?”

“Giving and receiving, yes.”

“Same,” Louis said, “So, like, sex.”

“Sex.”

“Not tonight though. I think I’m drunk.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Okay, good. Not tonight. Later.”

“Later.”

Louis sighed, and then ducked down to settle his head on Harry’s chest, blinking up at him.

“Stay over,” Louis said, “You can sleep in the guest room, I won’t be offended.”

“Okay,” Harry said, the breath escaping his chest more and more as Louis got closer. Soon he was hovering over him, and then, slowly, Louis lowered his mouth to Harry’s. Harry exhaled once, and then closed his eyes and allow to lips to mold to Louis’s own. He brought one hand up from off the floor and settled it on the back of Louis’s head, tangling it in with his hair. Louis nipped at Harry’s bottom lip, which only made him breath out, his breath long and shaky, into Louis’s open mouth before Louis once more closed his lips completely over Harry’s own.

Louis’s hands reached up and gripped onto the front of Harry’s shirt, and eventually, he pulled back, blinking at Harry once more with those dark, sleepy eyes.

“Why do you smell so good to me,” he murmured, and Harry knew it wasn’t a question Louis needed an answer to, especially not when Harry had the same question on the tip of his tongue at all times.

Louis’s hands moved up from Harry’s shirt to cup his face, and he sighed, his mouth so close that Harry could smell his breath on his face.

“Hey,” he said, “I changed my mind.”

“Oh?”

“I still don’t think we should have sex tonight,” Louis said, “But I want to suck your dick.”

Harry just blinked at him, his eyes feeling too heavy.

“Oh.”

“That alright?”

“You sure you’re not too drunk? You’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” Louis said, “You want to do it? Little V-Day BJ?”

Harry snorted weakly.

“Don’t call it that, please,” he said, “But yeah, yeah, please.”

Louis just grinned at him, and then his hand ghosted down, cupping the bulge in Harry’s jeans. Harry just looked at him, wriggling around under Louis’s touch, which made him laugh.

“Fuckin’ brat.”

“Hey.”

“I’m just saying,” Louis shrugged, and then lifted his hand, popping Harry’s button out of its loop in one clean motion, pulling down his zipper in another. He leaned forward and kissed Harry firmly as he tucked his hand under the loosened fabric of his jeans, feeling over his cotton-covered cock. He hummed against Harry’s lips, then pulled back.

“Hm.”

“Hm, what?” Harry asked. He lifted himself onto his elbows, and Louis just gave him a look and then shifted down, closer to Harry’s crotch.

“Nothing,” Louis said, and then grabbed onto Harry’s cock and pulled him out without much preface. Harry’s hips bucked up as he did it, but Louis just stayed still, peering at Harry’s length curiously as it laid on his belly, over the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re big,” Louis said flatly, and then shifted a hand down Harry’s length, thumbing once over his head as he lifted his prick up off his stomach. Louis swept a hand over his own hair, holding his fringe back as his lips closed over Harry’s cockhead. Harry hissed, but laughed weakly at the sight of Louis holding his hair back while he swallowed down Harry’s cock. Harry was still more than a little tipsy.

“Your hair that long that you need to push it back?” he said. Louis just glanced up at him, his eyes glaring even as his lips were stretched over Harry’s head. His eyes flicked back down and he pushed himself down Harry’s cock more, and Harry’s voice gave way to a weak gasp. He brought his hand up, knocking Louis’s own hand out of the way as he gripped Louis’s hand instead, making the other man smirk around his head.

“I’m not a brat. You’re a fucking brat,” he mumbled, “Smirking like that while you suck cock, like Christ, what are you?”

Louis pulled off, his lips popping off Harry’s length, and he leaned forward and kissed Harry’s head with reddened lips.

“I’m your dream girl, darling,” he said, his words slurred with early evening cocktails and more recent beer. He tucked Harry easily back in his mouth, and Harry just groaned, his body falling slack as he collapsed flat on the carpet, his hand still gripped in Louis’s hair. He bucked his hips up weakly, once, just to feel Louis easily move and accommodate his movement. Harry was drunk and getting his dick sucked by a supermodel. An alpha supermodel. An alpha supermodel who was going to ruin him for every blowjob he ever had after this.

Louis’s mouth released off his dick, and Harry whined weakly. The other man ran his tongue up his length, from the base of him up to the head, and then suckled on the head once more.

“Your dick is a delight,” Louis said, “You’re giving me much more to work with than what I usually get.”

“Is this the sort of thing you say when you get a couple drinks in you?” Harry asked. But Louis didn’t answer him, just swallowed him down again, making Harry nearly choke. He ran his hands over his face, letting his back arch and his hips swivel and buck into Louis’s mouth. He didn’t seem bothered by it. Barely even choking.

“You’re magic,” Harry slurred, “Magic mouth.”

Louis honest to fuck laughed around his prick, and then completely flattened his tongue against the underside of Harry’s length, cutting off his own voice.

Harry just stared at Louis’s high, white ceilings, whimpering weakly as Louis sucked him off. He cried out sharply when he felt a pull in his gut, and then Louis was pulling off a few moments before Harry weakly dribbled all over his own mouth, making him whine again.

“I wasn’t in the mood to swallow,” Louis said, his voice raspy. He wiped his mouth and gave Harry a long look, “Sorry.”

Harry just groaned again.

“I’m so disgusting.”

“You’re not.”

“I’m covered in cum.”

“I’ll get you a towel, love,” Louis laughed, “Will that prevent the end of the world?”

The other man stood up, only wobbling slightly, and Harry closed his eyes and listened to the soft sound of Louis’s footsteps down the hall. Harry’s head was starting to hurt.

Louis returned a few moments later with a towel, and Harry took it from him and wiped his own belly, then just balled the towel up in his fists and gazed at Louis, who gave him a soft, swollen smile.

“I should let you go to bed,” Louis said.

“What if I don’t want to,” Harry said quickly, which just made Louis look at him carefully.

“Well,” he allowed, “I’m comfortable.”

“So let’s just stay here for a little while longer,” Harry said.

Louis just smiled, and then nodded and settled his head back on Harry’s chest, probably close enough to hear how fast Harry’s heart was beating.

His body felt heavy, and he knew his back for pay for it if he fell asleep on the floor, but he felt so content and tipsy and surrounded in Louis’s smell he wasn’t sure if he cared.

-

Harry had a full day of editing to cram into his afternoon after he got home from sleeping on Louis’s floor until noon. It was late by the time he finished his work, but at the very least, he’d be able to make his deadline.

After he was done, he treated myself to a mug of hot chocolate and then settled back in front of his Mac, but this time, he opened up a fresh browser and decided to type in something he had last typed in at around four in the morning on New Year’s Day: Louis Tomlinson photoshoot.

Most of the immediate results were shoots Louis had done for Vogue or campaigns he had been part of for bigger brands. Most of them were pretty tame, different concept shots that were meant to show the clothes or the make-up Louis and the other models had on. In one GQ shoot from last spring, he was dressed in a long blazer that was open over his bare chest, and he was gazing at the camera as another male model stood behind him, his arms wrapped around Louis’s torso, his mouth open and pressed close to Louis’s neck.

There were also some pictures of Louis from some of the newest Victoria’s Secret campaigns, so he went ahead and added “VS” to his search to narrow it down. Half the pictures were runaway pictures, the others were catalogue shots. For the most part, the stylists had put Louis in the same lingerie as the female models, aside from any bras that were more functional than a triangle bralette. Harry kept clicking on them, his thumb between his teeth even though he’d seen plenty of these pictures before. Hell, he’d probably seen them on billboards or on the sides of taxis around the city plenty of times. But now, they seemed so much…different. Louis in a sheer robe slipping off his shoulder, glancing back at the camera. Louis on a couch in black thigh highs and a matching pair of panties, his legs spread wide to display his generous bulge under the lace, his head thrown back. Standing in the corner of a well-lit room, lifting up the edge of a silk teddy enough to show the side of his g-string thong, his crotch still covered by the teddy’s front.

Harry swallowed weakly and then decided to delete the “VS” from his search and instead type in “nude.”

He knew Louis had posed naked before. Most top models did it in their early days because no one that had made it in the industry wanted to do it unless they had to, and nude shoots paid well for newbies. Louis definitely looked younger in the pictures that came up, maybe in his early twenties. Several of them were taken under a spray of water, showing droplets of water down the curve of his hips, over his flat belly and his collarbones. The rest were artful shots of Louis either alone or with another model or two, hands and angles hiding anything too racy. But a few were more full on. A King-sized bed with a sheet that tucked just under the generous swell of Louis’s ass. A few of him and another male model who was much taller than him, Louis’s eyes closed and his mouth in a little “O” his arms reached behind him to grasp at his partner. His body was stretched out, like all of him was trying to get to the man behind him. His cock was unhidden and hanging between his legs, soft but still rather generous looking.

Harry closed his laptop, picked up his mug, and breathed.

He was going to have sex with Louis. He didn’t have to sit and stare at these pictures like they were a desperate fantasy. He would get to put his hands on that. He could see Louis gazing at him with want and with a shocked little mouth without being coerced to do it.

It was going to happen, he reminded himself as he tucked his laptop away and laid down on his own pillow, alone. They would figure some things out first, and then he could see whatever he wanted.

-

“So I bought this lube,” Louis told him two days later, while he was sitting on Harry’s kitchen counter. Harry was in the middle of editing a picture he had taken in a public park earlier that day showcasing an elderly couple feeding some squirrels bit of a hot dog.

Harry jumped and swiveled his desk chair around, facing Louis. The other man had was swinging his feet, with a bowl of vegan cookie dough in his lap. Harry had promised they would bake tonight, since Louis had his one cheat day of the month, but the cookies had fallen apart, leaving Louis to just innocently eat the dough off the spoon, like he hadn’t just mentioned buying lube for the sex he and Harry were eventually going to have.

“What?” Harry stuttered out.

“I bought lube,” Louis said again, licking the spoon, “A different kind. Apparently it imitates slick.”

“Okay,” Harry said, “I’ve heard of that. Betas use it.”

“Betas and us,” Louis chirped, and Harry closed his eyes.

“I feel like we should talk about this more,” Harry said, “Like, planning.”

“I am planning, that’s way I bought the fake slick lube,” Louis said.

“I know, but like, we need to figure out how to make it less painful. And what each of us likes,” Harry said “And, um, who’s going to top the first time around.”

“Easy. We’ll flip a coin,” Louis said, “Whoever wins tops.”

“Really?” Harry said, “We’re flipping a coin?”

“Do you have another suggestion?” Louis sighed. He dropped the spoon into the bowl, and it clattered against the sides, “Because we have to decide at some point, otherwise we’re just going to never have sex, and then what good would that do?”

“We could enjoy each other’s company,” Harry said dryly, “Go on walks. Or restaurants. Or a movie.”

“Did you take a chastity pledge in school I wasn’t aware of?” Louis asked. He was licking that goddamn spoon again. Harry was starting to think it was on purpose.

“Okay,” Harry sighed. He stood up from his living room desk and walked over to the counter. He set both hands on either sides of Louis’s hips, leaning forward, towards the other man’s lips, “Fuck it, we’ll flip a coin.”

Louis grinned, his sharp teeth flashing as he did.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed. He came forward, easily falling into a kiss as Louis settled an arm around Harry’s shoulders and neck. He tasted like sugar and chocolate chips.

Eventually, Louis pulled away, and pressed a finger to Harry’s lips.

“So,” he said, “Do you have a coin?”

“I thought you had one. You suggested it.”

“Doesn’t mean I have a bloody coin. Who carries around coins anymore?”

Harry groaned and pushed away from the counter, going over to one of his kitchen drawers.

“You’re useless. Absolutely useless,” he said, shaking his head, “I probably have one somewhere.”

He dug through a couple drawers of random pens and notepads and old Chapsticks, and then he eventually got a half pence coin out. He shut the drawer firmly and held up the coin, turning it over as he held it out to Louis.

“So,” he said, “What do you want, heads or tails?”

“What does it mean if I win?”

“It means you get to top.”

“What if it just means I get to pick what I do?”

“You’d pick topping.”

Louis narrowed his eyes, and then just nodded.

“Fuck, that’s fair,” he said, “Okay. Tails.”

“Alright then,” Harry said, “Best of three?”

“No. We do one, like real men,” Louis said, “Now flip the coin, you coward.”

Harry just gave him a look, and then flicked the coin against thumbnail, making it fly up. He caught it and then flipped it over against his hand, breathing in before he uncovered the coin. He only exhaled when he saw what it was, and then he held it out to Louis. The other man leaned over and looked at it curiously, and then lifted his head and licked his lips.

“Heads,” he said.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “Heads.”

“So you won,” Louis said, “And you’re topping.”

“Looks like.”

Louis tilted his head, and then shrugged.

“Well,” Louis sighed, “I do have a nice arse, it’d be a shame if I didn’t get to be on the bottom at least once.”

“You’re okay with it?”

“The whole point of this is that I’m okay with it,” Louis said, “And I get to top next time. It’s only fair.”

“Right,” Harry shrugged, “Of course.”

Louis just smiled at him, and then lifted the bowl off his lap and offered it to him.

“So,” he said, “Cookie dough?”

Harry groaned and shook his head.

“I’m not eating off your spoon,” he said, “That’s rank.”

“Then get your own,” Louis said, “Don’t make me finish this whole bowl by myself. Because I will. And then my body will be ruined and so will my career.”

“Alright, alright,” Harry laughed, “Fine.”

He opened his cutlery drawer and pulled out a spoon, and then dug into the bowl with Louis, their spoons occasionally clicking together enough to make them both laugh and fall into more kisses.

Louis went home at around 2 in the morning, after smiling and shaking his head after Harry asked him to stay.

“Early morning,” Louis murmured, “And I don’t want to get carried away.”

But Harry didn’t mind. He just kissed Louis again and then watched him go, and knew he would get a full night later.

The heads-up coin was still on the counter when he went back into his empty kitchen, and he didn’t have the heart to move it back into the drawer.

-

Harry came over to Louis’s apartment early on a Friday afternoon, and Louis answered his door holding a beer and wearing just a pair of joggers.

“Hey,” he smiled, and then stepped forward to grab Harry’s hand and pull him inside, “You want anything? Water or something?”

“I’m alright,” Harry said. He was still standing in the front hall in his jacket and boots, and glanced down at his feet, “Um, should I take my shoes?”

Louis just blinked at him, and then laughed and shook his head.

“God, you’re precious.”

“It’s just a question.”

“I know, I know, you’re just…you’re cute,” Louis smiled, “And  es, you can take your shoes off. And your coat.”

“Alright,” Harry said. He leaned down, undoing the laces on one boot and then the other before he stood up and worked on getting his coat off. He glanced back at Louis once he was done, and then sighed and leaned an arm against the nearest wall, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow.

 “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

“What?” Louis asked. Harry lifted his head and looked over as Louis smiled and lifted his bottle to his mouth, taking a long sip. Harry watched his throat work as he swallowed, “We fuck. I think that’s easy.”

“Yeah,” Harry said, his mouth going a little dry, “I, um, m’sorry.”

Louis just watched him, and then smiled.

“You nervous, love?” he asked, and Harry just sighed and shrugged.

“Jesus,” he sighed, “I promise I’ve had sex before. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“S’alright,” Louis said, then took a step forward and tilted his head to the side before reaching up and holding Harry by the back of his neck.

“Hey,” he breathed out, and pulled on Harry’s neck, “C’mere.”

Harry breathed out and leaned forward, until Louis’s mouth was by his ear.

“What,” he said, and Louis laughed lightly.

“I have a plug in,” Louis breathed out.

It made Harry stiffen and pull back, and he just blinked at him.

“In where?” he stuttered out, in what was possibly the most pathetic sentence he had ever said.

Louis snorted and shrugged.

“In my arse,” Louis said, “So you don’t have to prep me.”

Harry didn’t even know what to do, but Louis had settled his beer on the floor and was now holding Harry by the hips, lifting his body up to look up at him.

“The lube works, by the way,” Louis said, “I fingered myself for half an hour and thought about you before I put the plug in.”

“Fuck,” Harry breathed out, and then reached around Louis and held him by the waist, bringing him closer. Louis kissed him firmly, and slipped his hands under Harry’s shirt, exhaling against Harry’s lips.

“Harry,” he murmured, “Harry, fuck me.”

“Like right _now_?”

“What, you want to play another board game first?”

Harry laughed and shook his head, Louis’s hands still pressed his skin. He lifted up a hand, threading it in with Louis’s hair. He pulled a bit, enough to make Louis yelp.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured, “You ready?”

“Yeah,” Louis breathed out, and nipped a little on Harry’s lip, which made him groan. Then he ground his hips forward, and Harry could feel the bulge through his joggers, “Got this damn thing in my arse, I need something else.”

“Alright,” Harry said. He gripped Louis’s waist harder and then pulled, until Louis’s feet were moving, following him, a smile on his lips as Harry moved through the apartment and closer to Louis’s bedroom.

“How do you want it?” Harry asked, “Rough? Or you want me to go slow?”

Louis dug his nails into Harry’s chest through his shirt, hard enough to make him shout, and Louis just stared at him.

“Fuck me hard, Jesus,” he said, “If you’re going to do it, do it right.”

“It’ll hurt more.”

“Then add more lube,” Louis huffed, and then kissed his again.

They were nearly to the entrance of the bedroom now, and Harry just nodded and then pulled on Louis’s hands, bringing him forward and into the room. Louis leaned up and kissed him again, and then pulled away from Harry’s hold and instead moved over to the bed, flopping down on it and spreading his legs.

“C’mere,” he sighed, “Harry, please.”

“Mm,” Harry hummed. He came closer and dropped down, setting his hands on either side of Louis’s hips, “You got that lube you were so excited about?”

“Course,” Louis scoffed, “But you have to kiss me first.”

Harry surged forward, roughly connecting their lips, and Louis pulled back all too quickly, grabbing a metallic pink tube he had left on his nightstand. Harry took it from him, holding it in my one hand and then going for the waistband of Louis’s joggers with the other, pulling on it. The elastic snapped down, the red head of Louis’s cock popping out.

“Turn around.”

“No,” Louis said flatly, “You are not fucking me from behind.”

“I want to see your plug.”

“Then get creative.”

Harry just looked at Louis, and he looked back with a steady, hard gaze, until finally Harry sighed and just pulled on the rest of his joggers, getting it over his thighs. Louis just laid back, his cock just laid out, red and tempting, against his hip, while Harry got his joggers out.

“Can’t believe how badly I want your cock in me,” he said when he pulled off Louis’s joggers entirely, tossing them to the floor.

“Pity you’ll have the wait for that privilege, then,” Louis said. He shifted his hips a bit, then settled both feet firmly on the bed, lifting up a bit and angling his hips, until Harry could see the metallic, silver end of a plug glinting between Louis’s cheeks, the area around it slick with lube.

“Christ,” he sighed, and then reached out and prodded at the base of the plug with his finger. Louis flinched, and then exhaled shakily, his hips faltering a bit.

“That hurt?”

“No, not really.”

Harry reached out again, gripping the base of the plug tightly between his fingers. He moved the plug a bit, pushing it a bit further into Louis and then pulling on it until the flared part of the plug got stuck on his rim.

“What about that? That hurt?”

“No,” Louis gritted, “It’s not exactly what I wanted.”

“Too bad,” Harry shrugged, “You do this often? Put toys up your arse?”

“Who doesn’t,” Louis shrugged, “Any alpha who says they don’t is either lying or has never had their prostate stimulated properly.”

Harry snorted weakly, and then pushed in the plug particularly hard, making Louis yelp.

“I have a couple plugs at home, too,” he said, “Bought them for my ex on Valentine’s Day once, but he dumped me before I could give them too him that day. Joke’s on him, that glittery blue one is fantastic.”

“You talk a lot,” Louis said, “And you talk fucking slow. This is going to take forever.”

“Alright, then, princess,” Harry laughed, “Relax.”

Louis just narrowed his eyes at him but still relaxed, his belly visibly falling as he exhaled. Harry pulled on the plug hard, and it was so lubed up it came out in one smooth motion, making Louis gasp weakly.

Harry tossed the wet metal plug to the side of the bed, and then finally got to getting his own clothes off, tossing them into the same pile as Louis’s joggers. Once he was naked he reached for the tube of Faux Slix and cracked it open, poured some on his fingers, then reached out to rub it over Louis’s hole, just to make sure it was still slick. He felt pretty fucked open, but Harry still slipped a finger inside him just to make sure he was properly prepped.

“I am fine,” Louis huffed when Harry pulled his finger out, “Had that thing in for three hours, and it’s fucking enormous.”

“Just wanted to check,” Harry shrugged, then poured more lube into his own hand, “You have condoms?”

“Yeah but I’m clean.”

“Oh,” Harry said, looking up from his palm full of fake slick to look at Louis, “You want to do it bare?”

“Yeah, why not?” Louis shrugged, “If you’re clean, that’s fine. Not like I’m going to get pregnant.”

“Right,” Harry said, and then dropped his hand to his prick, slicking it up, “Right.”

After a few tugs on his hard length, he appropriately wet, and then he moved closer, setting his knees on either side of Louis’s hips. He lined himself up, gazing down at Louis, and then inclined his head forward.

“You alright?” he asked, and Louis just rolled his eyes and nodded.

“Yes,” he huffed, and Harry nodded and then looked down. He pushed his hips just once, and watched as the head of his cock disappeared into Louis’s hole.

They both gasped at the same time. Harry, because despite how much he had slicked Louis up and prepped him, he was so tight, his entrance not naturally giving way like all the omegas Harry had slept with. He could only imagine what kind of feeling Louis was getting.

“Oh my god,” Louis got out, “You realize you’re kind of big?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine, Christ. Keep going.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Harry, keep going!” Louis said, nearly yelling it. He ground down, nearly forcing more of Harry’s prick inside of him, and Harry forced himself to move forward to meet him.

“Baby, it’s alright,” Harry said, “I got you, I’ll give you what you need.”

Louis just sighed, his shoulders relaxing before he bucked his hips again, and Harry leaned forward, until he was hovering over Louis.

“I will hold you down while I do this,” he said. Louis just blinked up at him, and smiled.

“Mm, that’s a new one,” Louis said.

Harry growled weakly and dragged his hands up Louis’s arms, lacing his fingers with Louis’s own and pushing them down into the pillow.

“Brat,” Harry breathed out, and Louis’s eyes snapped up and just looked at him.

“Uh huh,” he said, “Fuck me harder, make me be quiet.”

It wasn’t like having sex with an omega, in a lot of ways. Because for one, if Louis was an omega he probably would’ve gone pliant and gasping for air and doing whatever Harry wanted by now, not pushing this hard. But somehow, Harry didn’t mind it.

“Fine,” Harry said. He held his body up higher, putting more of his weight on his arms. He rabbited his cock firmly into Louis, making his body bounce hard. Louis closed his eyes, his throat working hard as he gasped and swallowed.

“Ah,” he gasped out, “ _Ah_.”

“That’s a start,” Harry said, “You’re a little quieter now.”

Louis’s eyes snapped out, the blue of his irises nearly flashing as they opened, and he shoved his hips down hard, the flesh of his arse slapping hard against Harry’s hips. Harry gasped at the feeling, and Louis just smirked and then gasped again, his eyes falling closed. He lifted one hand up to his throat, his fingers trailing over his skin before his fingers loosely tightened over the column of his throat.

“I can feel your cock in me,” he said, his voice airy.

“Yeah, no shit.”

“No, you prick,” Louis sighed, and then brought his other hand down, holding it over his belly, “Watch.”

Harry narrowed his eyes but still brought his eyes down to look at Louis’s flat belly as he fucked him, and saw the weak outline of his own length moving under the skin of his stomach. It made him feel a little light headed. He had never seen in any of this other partners; it must have been because Louis’s body wasn’t made it be fucked the way an omega’s was, his body had to try a little hard to accommodate Harry’s length.

“Jesus,” Harry managed, his mouth dry as he forced himself to look away and back into Louis’s eyes, at the way his fingers were still shifting to hold his own throat. His head bobbed against the mattress as Harry kept fucking him. He didn’t speak much, except when his thin, reddened lips would part to let him whine or gasp. His voice sounded like molten Harry when his lips spelled out “Harry.”

Harry wished he could take pictures with his eyes. He wanted this splayed across an art gallery, a frame by frame display of Louis Tomlinson getting wrecked with his own hand around his neck.

“Harry,” Louis murmured, “Harry, touch my prick.”

Harry nodded and moved his head down to Louis’s length, which had started to leak over his belly. He shifted his hand over the length, and then moved his hand down, touching the base of it, particularly the firmness at the base.

“Is that your knot?”

“Yeah,” Louis managed, swallowing thickly.

“You’re close, then?”

“I guess,” Louis said, “I’m sorry, I had the plug in for a really long time.”

He looked up at Harry, his fingers steely blue as he said the next part, “You can still fuck me after I’ve come, though.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked, “You – you want me to just use you up?”

“That’s what I want,” Louis agreed. He closed his eyes again, robbing Harry of the chance to look at his eyes.

He worked his hips harder, keeping a hand on Louis’s prick as he did, working him roughly. Louis gasped and twisted as Harry worked him in two ways, his head moving back and forth against the mattress. He finally moved his hand off his throat, then threw it up over his head, moving his head to the side and tucking it into his elbow.

“M’gonna come,” he whimpered, his hips moving down weakly to meet Harry’s thrusts. Christ, this boy even came like he was ready for a camera to come out at any moment.

Harry kept rabbiting his hips, making Louis gasp weakly, and then Harry squeezed firmly on Louis’s growing knot, and the other man shrieked and bucked his hips. He came all over his own belly, his knot swelling in Harry’s hand as he squeezed it.

Louis collapsed back onto the mattress when he was done, and whimpered as Harry kept fucking into his limp body.

“Harry, come on me,” Louis said, “Don’t knot me, just pull out and come on me.”

Harry hissed and bucked his hips forward again, reaching out to hold onto Louis’s hips so he could bring his body down with him. He twisted his own hips a bit, screwing his cock inside Louis and making him whimper once more.

“You’re so cruel,” Louis said, “You’re so fucking cruel.”

“You asked me to do this.”

“And you’re making me like this,” Louis said, “That’s your fault. Now just fucking come on me.”

Harry nodded, a lock of his hair falling down into his eyes as he did. He felt his own cock getting hard at the base, so he pulled some of his length out, until he was just fucking himself into the base of Louis’s body.

He squeezed hard on the base of his own prick, and then yelled sharply and pulled his length completely out of Louis. He didn’t do it soon enough, though, and his cum splattered on the inside of Louis’s thighs, over his hole, and some of his belly, the rest of it falling onto the mattress below.

He just hovered above Louis, with his wet, knotted cock in one hand, and looked down at Louis, with his bright pink chest and his glistening belly. Harry’s legs felt weak and he finally allowed himself to collapse next to Louis, panting against his shoulder. He felt Louis’s hand move over his face eventually, cupping and stroking his cheek.

“You did good,” Louis croaked out, “Real fucking good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You owe me three baths but…shit,” Louis sighed and shook his head, “Don’t know why I didn’t do that with someone sooner.”

“That good?”

“So good,” Louis said, “Glad it was with you, you know.”

Harry lifted his gaze, loking into Louis’s sleepy blue eyes, and he smiled.

“Glad it was you, too.”

Louis snorted and shook his head.

“Enough. Come give your alpha a kiss.”

Harry’s smile shifted to a smirk, but he didn’t feel like correcting him as he brought his lips in to cover Louis’s mouth.

-

Harry fully expected Louis to be gone when he woke up. It was a Saturday, but Louis probably had to go to the gym or a meeting or anything else. He wasn’t in bed when Harry woke up, so he just stretched out and pet the wrinkled sheets next to him, which were now starting to cool a bit. He lifted his head and squinted into the room, looking for fresh texts on his phone or maybe even a paper note, but there was nothing.

He sighed and got up, and found his clothes from the night before and put everything on. He would take a shower, but that was probably overstaying his welcome. He did pull part of the comforter on Louis’s bed up over the pillows, and then he padded out of the room and into the hallway, already pulling out his phone to send Louis a thank-you text for the night.

He paused when he past into the kitchen and he saw Louis leaning against the kitchen counter, wearing a pink slip robe and eating a bowl of cereal.

Louis turned when Harry paused outside the kitchen doorway, and then took another bite from his bowl.

“Oh, hey,” he said, “You’re up.”

“You’re home,” Harry said, and Louis just lifted a brow.

“Of course I’m home. It’s Saturday.”

“Oh,” Harry said. He lifted his bag off his shoulder and settled it on the counter as he came towards Louis, “I thought you’d be busy today. Like you’d have to go to the gym or something.”

“I’ll go later,” Louis sighed, then nodded behind him, where there were no fewer than a dozen cereal boxes lined up on the counter top, “Help yourself. I’m out of eggs so…this is the best we’ve got.”

“Alright,” Harry said, but first came over and settled a hand on Louis’s shoulder, making the other man turn and blinked up at him, smiling before he leaned in and finally kissed him.

“Hey,” Harry murmured, “You feeling alright?”

“Sore, but fine,” Louis shrugged, “I’ll live.”

“Good,” Harry nodded. He went back over to the counter, fiddling with the buckles of his camera bag as he looked over the boxes of cereal. He wasn’t particularly hungry, so he just unbuckled the whole bag and flipped open the top, rooting around inside for the camera body and the lens and SD card he wanted.

“You setting up a photo shoot in my kitchen?” Louis asked behind him, and he laughed weakly.

“I might shoot later, I don’t know,” Harry said, “I just wanted to check everything.”

He made sure the lens was set and then slotted his card in, and then took a couple shots as he fiddled with the settings and white balance, just to have something to do. He turned at one point, and took another shot in Louis’s direction, as the man was turned away from him, setting his bowl in the sink, one arm lifted up over his head, his wrist cocked.

He turned and gave Harry a look when the camera went off, but just smiled and shook his head as he turned back around.

“You’re not allowed to sell that.”

“Wasn’t going to,” Harry said, “I’m allowed to keep some things to myself.”

He toggled back over the last picture, and focused a bit too long on the way the light of Louis’s windows flashed over the fabric of his robe, the curves of his body, the contrast of the lines of his hips versus his limbs.

When he looked back up, Louis was still at the sink, and Harry’s hands gripped the camera and lifted up more out of instinct than anything else.

“Hey,” Harry said, “Stay like that.”

Louis glanced at him, and lifted his head and ruffled his hair.

“Like what?”

“Like you are,” Harry said, already toggling with his camera, “Like you were. Don’t look like you’re posing.”

“Well, you’re gotten a camera out, how can I not pose?”

“Just try,” Harry said, lifting his camera up, “Please?”

“Alright, alright,” Louis sighed. He stayed still, and then looked at Harry over his shoulder when Harry clicked the capture. Harry moved the camera away and just looked firmly at Louis.

“I said not to pose.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Louis laughed. He turned away and lifted up both hands, threading them through his hair before lifting them straight over his head, and then turning his wrists out. Harry pressed capture quickly, taking a picture for nearly every bit of Louis’s movement. Louis looked back over at him once he was done, frowning.

“My face isn’t even in those.”

“So? Doesn’t have to be. I like your movements.”

“You like my movements,” Louis repeated with a shake of his head, “Okay.”

He smiled a bit at Harry, and Harry once again took a picture. Louis opened his mouth in surprise, and then Harry took another picture.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m taking pictures, love,” Harry laughed.

“You have to warn me!”

“Mm,” Harry hummed, and then clicked the shudder again, “No I don’t.”

Louis tilted his head, and then took a step towards the bed.

“Oh, you don’t?”

“I don’t,” Harry agreed. His finger stayed on the capture for every step Louis took, his head tilted, smiling, part of his sheer robe falling off his shoulder.

Louis hummed as he took a step forward. Harry just moved back, continuing to take pictures as Louis came towards him.

“Menace,” Louis said. His face was right up near the camera now, the lens only capturing his mouth, “Fucking menace,”

Harry clicked down with every syllable, and then moved the camera back, holding it up with one hand.

“Oh, you’re finished now, are you?” Louis asked, and Harry just dropped his chin, set his camera on the counter behind him, and then pulled him into a kiss.

“I suppose I am.”

Louis snorted but still grinned against his mouth, and then moved his own lips to mold with Harry’s.

He kept his lips like that for a while, just moving with Harry’s, and then he moved back and smiled, lifting his hand up to shift his thumb under Harry’s bottom lip.

“I want to stay something,” Louis said, “I don’t want you to be mad.”

Harry moved his mouth to nip at Louis’s thumb, grinning when he flinched and glared at him.

“Alright.”

Louis keep his eyes narrowed, and then he sighed and let his eyes widen again, his face softening around them as he did.

“So. I like you,” he said, “I’d like it if we could keep doing this.”

“This,” Harry echoed. He moved his hands down, loosely holding Louis around the middle, “What’s this?”

“I don’t know. I like having you in my house. I like being in yours. I like seeing you and talking to you and I like you fucking around with your camera in my kitchen,” Louis said, “And sex. I like sex with you too now. I mean, probably. I still haven’t topped you, that could be awful.”

“Could be.”

“I’m just saying,” Louis sighed, “’This’ is a lot of things. But…all of those things are about you.”

Harry smiled and him, and then lifted a hand off Louis’s hip to hold one cheek in his hand.

“So,” he said, “Can I be your alpha, love?”

Louis scoffed.

“I’m your alpha.”

“Not yet. You haven’t fucked me yet,” Harry said. It got him a weak swat on the hip, which only made him laugh again, “Okay, fine. Yes, you are. And I want to be yours.”

He liked the idea of Louis being his alpha. He liked being held by him, protected by him, but he wanted to do the same to him in turn. He could be Louis’s alpha, and Louis, his.

“I guess I can settle for that,” Louis said. He bounced on his toes a bit, and crossed his arms, “So, this.”

“This. More of this. Whatever it is.”

It got a smile out of Louis, and then he leaned forward, and kissed Harry gingerly on the mouth, his lips barely touching Harry’s own before he pulled away.

“I like you more than I’ve liked anyone in a really long time,” Louis said when he pulled away, “Is that weird?”

“No,” Harry said quickly. He could think about how it was weird later. Weird that Louis was the first and only alpha he had liked, and after a few months, he still seemed to rank over anyone else Harry had ever been with. That was weird outs ide of here. But now, standing in Louis’s kitchen with a fresh set of pictures fresh on his SD card, it was the thing Harry could imagine happening.

Louis smiled, and then leaned forward.

“Hey, you have anything to do today?”

“No, not really,” Harry said, “Why?”

“Because I want you to eat breakfast, and then I kind of want to top you,” Louis said, “Just so you can’t say I’m not your alpha anymore.”

Harry just looked at him, and then smiled and grabbed his hand, pulling Louis close to him, holding his warm, silk-covered body in both arms as he kissed him in a patch of early spring sunlight filtering through the kitchen window. He kissed him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos or a review if you so desire x


End file.
